Um, Poof?
by Caris L. Clearwater
Summary: A parody in which Astrid is a dork, Caine is obsessed with his hair, Drake is madly in love with Diana, Pete has a potty mouth, and Howard is a drag queen. The FAYZ will never be the same again.
1. School Is OUT!

**A/N: Okay guys, here's the deal. I was looking through the Gone fanfiction, when I realized that no one has done a parody of this story yet. Unbelievable, but true. And, since I'm known for doing strange and whacky things, I figured, what the heck? Why not? **

**Please be aware that in this story, characters get either very OOC or very OIC. There is no in between ground. No one in this story is safe, or is normal. You have been warned. **

**Dedication: To Michael Grant. For creating an amazing story, and making it hard to find ways to make fun of it. Sure, I found a way to do it anyway, but that's only because my brain is not wired the way most human brains are…hehe…**

**Declaimer: I own nothing. Cool? **

**Chapter 1: School. Is. OUT!!! (includes the first five chapters of Gone) **

Sam Temple was sitting at his desk when It happened. He was staring out the window, his mind with the surf and the sand, his teacher droning on and on about the Civil War. No one was listening to him; Mary Terrafino was eating a Sinkers Bar and drumming her fingers on her desk; Quinn Gaither, seated behind Sam, was sleeping; Kangaroo Kelly, also known as Bouncer Bette, was texting on her cell phone. In fact, it was Bette who first alerted them to the problem. If her phone hadn't suddenly blinked out of service, her connection cut off, and started complaining, none of the other ninth graders might have noticed that their teacher, Mr. Trentlake, was gone.

Poof.

Gone.

"Hey!" Kangaroo Kelley/Bouncer Bette yelled. "What the hell happened to my service?" She repeatedly banged her cell on her desk, causing Sam to snap out of his daydream. It was then that kids began to notice Mr. Trentlake's disappearance.

"Hey…where'd our teacher go?" Mary asked. Quinn jerked up from his nap.

"Whoa there, chill. Just cool it, girl. You're ruining my mellow." Quinn's head slumped back onto the desk. Sam shook his head and was about to jerk his friend awake when the classroom door opened. Sam froze; it was Astrid Ellison.

Astrid Ellison had to be the nerdiest girl in all the school. She was placed in all the advanced classes and could tell you the diameter of Jupiter off the top of her head. But social skills? She possessed none. _Especially_ around Sam. It was common knowledge that she had a huge crush on him, knowledge that Sam regretted knowing.

Today Astrid was looking especially dorky. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun; her wire-rimmed glasses hung askew on her pointed nose; pimples and sweat covered her face ("Did you know that the pimples on my forehead form a perfect isosceles triangle?" she'd once told Sam.), and she looked as though she'd been running. Her stained blouse hung half in and half out of her overalls, and she blushed as she met Sam's eyes. Sam groaned internally; out of all the kids in Perdido Beach School, why did it have to be Astrid the Semi-Genius to come and check up on them?

"D-do any of you know where your teacher is?" she asked. The new kid, Edilio Escobar, shook his head.

"No, _senorita, _we don't." Astrid blushed again.

"Oh. 'Cause mine's gone. Like, poof."

"Poof?" Sam asked despite himself. Astrid nodded eagerly, happy for the attention.

"Yeah. Poof. Didn't you see it?" Sam, embarrassed, declined answering. Luckily, he didn't have to.

"Of _course_ he didn't," Quinn said. "What do you think we do in class all day? Stare at the teacher?" Sam was about to tell Quinn that, yes, you were supposed to stare at the teacher all day, when a crash sounded from outside. Sam, Quinn, and Astrid exchanged glances for a moment before rushing outside.

In the hallways kids were streaming out of classrooms, screaming with joy. Some were racing down the halls, tearing sheets of paper from notebooks and yelling, "School's Out!!!" at the top of their lungs. Quinn grinned lazily.

"My kinda people," he said. Astrid stuck out her lower lip.

"Shouldn't we find out what happened to the adults? And the other kids? There were three guys in my math class, and they went poof, too." Sam shrugged.

"Eh, who cares?" he asked. Sam and Quinn exchanged high-fives.

"We all should!" Astrid exclaimed with growing confidence. "What if we're next? Besides, I have to find my brother, to make sure he's okay." Astrid got a dreamy expression on her face, to which Sam rolled his eyes.

It was also common knowledge that Astrid doted on her brother, Petey. She called him 'Little Pete' and was constantly worried about him. She walked him to school each morning and prepared his dinner each night. The kid was five years old for Christ's sake! And Astrid treated him like a baby. It had, at one time, been believed by Astrid's parents that Pete was autistic, but that theory went down the drain when Pete demanded a dog for his fourth birthday. Now the common theory was that Pete was just plain whacked. He had the IQ of Einstein himself, and acted like a bratty teenager. No one could figure Pete out. Even his parents were wary of him. Sam pitied the Ellison's. No one should have to be cursed with children like Astrid and Pete.

"Hey! There's no signal!" Sam turned to the sound of the panicked voice. A seventh grade girl was holding up her cell and frantically dialing numbers. Within seconds every kid in the hall had out his or her cell phone and was dialing random numbers.

"What the…no signal?!"

"Damnit! How am I supposed to order my pepperoni pizza now?"

"What?! No internet! What happened to Facebook?"

The second the news that Facebook was out spread to the main stream population of the school, chaos erupted. You could teleport away all the adults, shut down the internet, and kill the phone lines, and kids would survive. But, if you shut off Facebook….

"HOLY CRAP!!" a sixth grader screamed. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! IT'S TE APOCOLIPSE! IT'S 2012! GOD HAS COME TO JUDGE US ALL! RUN FOR YOUR FREAKING LIVES!!!!!"

As soon as this was said, a stampede of kids ran for the front doors of the school, each child kicking and clawing, fighting to get out. Sam, Astrid, and Quinn were swept up in the crowd, all running for the doors. Sam's first thought was, _Oh thank god; we lost Astrid. _But then vise-like fingers gripped Sam's arm as Astrid fought her way through the crowd to hang onto him. Sam tried, and failed, to wrench Astrid off of him, but the girl had the grip of an Olympic champion.

As soon as they were out the doors, the sounds of sirens wailing and car alarms beeping hit them. Every kid stopped, unsure, for a moment at the base of the steps. And then the schizophrenic sixth grader spoke up.

"THE ANGELS! THAT'S THE SOUND OF ANGELS ATTACKING US! RUN! RUN, BEFORE THYE SEND SMALL CHILDREN WITH KNIFES TO COME AND KILL US ALL!!"

And so the insane party of kids rushed down the street at full speed, running into quite a few buildings and cars during their rampage. Sam watched with mild interest as the mob ran down Main Street, shrieking and hollering. A few kindergarteners shook their heads in disgust as they walked quietly home.

"So…" Astrid said after a moment. "What now?" Sam shrugged.

"I'm gonna go check on the status at my house; see if the 'rents poofed," Quinn said. "You comin'?"

"Sure," Sam said. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

"I'll go, too," Astrid said, pushing her glasses further up her nose. "That way, after we're done, we can go look for Petey." Sam had the sudden compulsive urge to tell Astrid that Petey was of the few people in town who did not need looking after, thought the better of it, and held his tongue.

"Let's go, then," Quinn said. The party started down the street, passing kids who were doing all sorts of insane things. Jumping on top of car roofs; smashing in house windows; they even caught one fifth grade girl streaking. Quinn had turned to watch this with great interest, to which Astrid responded by hitting him on his head, and calling him a perv.

When they reached Quinn's house it was as they'd feared. No one was home.

"Yo?" Quinn called out, peeking into a room. "Moms? Pops? You guys chillin' here?"

They weren't.

"Well," Quinn said after a moment, "looks like the 'rents poofed. Mind if I have an emotional break-down?" Sam and Astrid shook their heads and let Quinn rant about how he was never nice to his father, how he should have told his mother he loved her, and how he wished the phones were still working so he could call up his aunt Mary one last time to call her a whore.

After he was done Sam said, "Okay, now we go to my house." Astrid nodded.

"And then Little Petey?" Sam sighed, regretting his decision to take Astrid the Semi-Genius along already. Couldn't she shut up about her brother for more than five seconds?

"Yeah, then Petey." Astrid grinned and, for a moment, almost looked pretty.

She then spoiled said moment by sneezing on Sam.

*

Lana Arwen Lazar was incredibly bored. She'd spent all day in the back of some smelly old truck with her smelly old grandfather, and her smelly old dog. Patrick was now barking his head off in time to some smelly old religious song. Lana pouted, sticking out her tongue at Patrick.

"Stupid, smelly old dog," she growled. Her grandfather clucked his tongue at her.

"Now, now, Lana, don't insult the poor beast. That one there's a good dog." Lana rolled her eyes.

"He's stupid and smelly, and I like, totally hate him," she responded.

"You shouldn't. Dog like that could save your life. You know he once pulled a kid out of a burning building? Natural born hero, that one. You might do some good and follow his example." Lana rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"I come out here to this stupid middle-of-no-where-town, get stuck on a ranch with, like, no cable or internet, and now I'm supposed to take advice from a _dog_?" Lana's grandfather sighed.

"Well, if you're going to behave like a spoiled brat…" he muttered. When he turned his head away, Lana stuck out her tongue at her grandfather.

She couldn't believe she'd gotten stuck here. Out of all the places to get stuck in, why did it have to be Perdido Beach? Nothing ever happened there! Nothing! All people did for fun was surf and eat out at McDonalds. What had she done to deserve this fate? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Well….okay, there had been a few things. But very _minor_ things. What was one stolen bottle of vodka? A couple cigarette packs? One or two break-ins? And, okay, yes, she did have _some_ connection to that fire that ended up burning down the school gym. Nothing direct, of course, but the principal apparently didn't agree with her.

Stupid principal. Stupid parents. They were the reason Lana was stuck in this little good-for-nothing town.

Lana was about to demand for the thousandth time that week that she be sent home when two things happened at once. One: her grandfather disappeared. Two: the car swerved off the road.

"AHH!" Lana screamed. She held onto her car seat for dear life as the truck spun in a lazy circle around, and around, and around…

Lana turned a very unflattering shade of green and proceeded to throw up the contents of her lunch.

Soon the car skidded to a halt, not so much as a scratch to its name. Patrick immediately bounded over to the front seat to check on his mistress, who was still screeching in terror.

"My hair! Ohmigod! My hair! My nails! It'll take me months to fix them!" Lana broke down and wept over her frizzy hair and broken nails. Patrick put his nose to Lana's arm in an attempt to comfort her. Lana freaked out, screaming, "Oh! It touched me! The mutt touched me!" Patrick then learned not to touch Lana. Ever.

"Okay…now what?" Lana wondered to herself aloud. One thing was clear; she had to get out of the car. What if it, like, exploded? Like it always did in those James Bond movies?

Lana pulled herself from the car, plopping down on the dirt. She moaned again; the chances of her getting the sand out of her outfit were dropping severely. And it was designer!

"Ow," she moaned. After a moment of self pity Lana decided to try and stand. She propped herself up against the car, preparing to start walking in search of a ride, when she found that one leg couldn't support her weight.

"Noo," Lana moaned. "I like, sprained my ankle!" Lana hopped around on one leg for a few moments before tripping and hearing a sickening snap come from her once-good leg. She only had one word to sum this entire situation up as her stupid smelly dog once again bounded over to her.

"Crap."

*

As Sam, Astrid, and Quinn made their way to the Temple residence, kids were constantly stopping them, asking if they knew were the adults had gone, or if he had any idea when they'd be back. Sam told these kids to get lost; while Quinn told them have a cookie.

"A cookie?" Astrid asked, sticking her scrawny arms on her even scrawnier hips.

"It helps mellow out the system," Quinn replied. For once, Astrid had no response.

When the trio reached Sam's house the result was a replica of Quinn's. No mom. No dial tone on the phones. Nothing. They were all just…gone.

"Dude," Quinn said, pulling a coke from the fridge, "this is freaky." Sam nodded.

"Totally. Even freakier than a tsunami in New Jersey." Astrid raised an eyebrow.

"Surfing metaphor?" she asked.

"You got a better one?" Astrid shook her head.

"I'm…gonna go use the bathroom." Without another word Astrid turned and walked into a separate room, shutting the door closed behind her. Quinn watched her go with great interest.

"Um, she does know that's the coat closet…right?" Sam shrugged.

"As long as she doesn't pee on my parka, I don't care where she does her business." Quinn nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm…gonna go change my shirt," Sam said, edging toward his room. Quinn nodded at him, or at least it looked like a nod to Sam. It could have also just been a head bang to the music that was probably playing in Quinn's head. Actually, this was more than likely, but at the moment, Sam couldn't have cared less. He had to see if It was still there.

Because for Sam Temple, normalcy had lost its meaning eight months ago.

Eight months ago when his stepfather had run, screaming, from their house. And two nights ago…when It had happened.

The fairy light.

Two nights ago, there had been a thunder storm. And Sam Temple _hated_ thunder storms with a fiery passion. They kept him awake at night, scared and alone. They made him feel venerable, weak…

So, those two nights ago, It had happened. Sam had been lying on his, trying to sleep. He had closed his eyes and tried counting sheep, but in his imagination the sheep always grew fangs and bit off his limbs before jumping over the picket fence. So he stopped counting.

And then he was left alone with the overwhelming feeling of loneliness and solitude. He was scared, it was pitch black, and he had to pee. Like, really badly. So, being the wimp he was, Sam called out to his mother, hoping she would bring him a flashlight so he could find his way to the bathroom.

But, instead of his mother coming to guide him to the toilet, a light appeared. It twinkled and sparkled and was the color of cotton candy. Sam used the light to find the bathroom (thank god), and it was only when back in his bed that he realized how incredibly _girly _his light was. Seriously! It was like something out of an episode of the Power Puff Girls.

So, not wanting to diminish his manly pride any more than he already had, Sam hid the pink light in his closet behind some clothes.

And it was still there.

"Why won't you go away? Why do you still have to be here, you girly light, you?" Sam muttered. He stuck out his hand and felt it pass through the light. Oddly enough, when he put said hand to his face, it smelled like sprinkles. Weird….

"Sam?" Astrid called. Sam's head jerked. He couldn't let them see this light! If either of them knew he had created such a girly-looking phenomenon, he would not only be considered a freak, but an un-manly freak. And that was unacceptable.

"Coming!" he called. He shoved his shirts back in front of the glowing light (now a fuchsia pink), and ran back down stairs.

Quinn and Astrid were both huddled over a silver laptop; his mother's computer. Sam frowned and made his way over to them, glancing over their shoulders. His mother's computer was open to a Word Document program….some kind internet journal.

Ignoring their protests, Sam shoved Astrid and Quinn out of the way to read.

_These Coates kids are really starting to get on my nerves. It happened _again._ Unbelievable. I'm considering going to G about this, but without any proof I'll be written off as crazy. Still, I have to do something. C's attempts are getting crazier and crazier. He's going to get someone killed. _

_Just like S with T. _

_Should I confront C? Will he even listen to what I have to say? God knows that boy has always had trouble with listening to authority._

And that was all that was written.

Sam stared at the diary, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He knew that G stood for Grace, head of Coates Academy, and S would refer to him, as T would refer to his stepfather. But who was C?

Sam closed the laptop when he felt Astrid's breath on his neck as she tried to peek over his shoulder and read the journal. The girl was too nosy for her own good.

"Let's go to the plaza," Sam said, starting for the front door.

"Why?" Quinn asked, following.

"Because I need some fresh air, that's why."

*

Down at the plaza there was _another _emergency.

Seriously. A fire? What next? Talking coyotes?

The not-so-intelligent trio made their way over to the seen of the fire. Flames billowed from an apartment building, and about forty kids were standing there, gawking.

"Whoa," Quinn said, lifting up his shades to peer at the flames. "Epic, man."

"Totally," said a kid from Sam's class. "It's been going on for half an hour; we've been taking bets on whether the building will fall down or not. Or whether it'll burn down the hardware store."

Sure enough, kids were passing around money and taking bets. A few sat on beach towels, eating popcorn. Some had even passed out foam fingers and were either cheering on or booing the fire. It was like the super bowl all over again.

"Put me down for twenty on the fire burning down the hardware store," Quinn whispered. The kid grinned.

"You're on." Astrid's eyes widened as the flames shot up another foot in the air. There were a few "Ohhs," and "Ahhs," as the crowd began to murmur amongst themselves.

Suddenly, a voice cried out, "Help! Somebody save me!" Everyone glance at one another.

"I-I think it came from inside the building," Bouncer Bette said. She was rocking back and forth on her converses, still clutching her useless cell phone.

There was a silence.

"So, who wants to bet on whether or not the kid makes it?" There was an immediate influx of betting, money being passed back and forth, hands being shaken, and popcorn being popped. For kids that rarely got cable, this was the excitement of their lives.

"Hey!" someone cried. "It would add to the betting odds even more if someone tried to save her, don'tcha think?" This statement was met with cheers.

"But…who's going to save the poor _chicka_?" Edilio asked. There was a dead silence as people glanced suspiciously at each other. It was, in the end, Astrid who answered.

"Why doesn't Sam save her?" she asked. Sam winced at the adoration in Astrid's voice when she spoke his name, and a cold dread grew in the pit of his stomach as kids began whispering amongst themselves.

"Yeah! Sam should do it!"

"He's School Bus Sam!"

"Let Sam do it!"

Two years ago, in the seventh grade, Sam had saved his class from certain humiliation. During their yearly field trip to the beach the bus had obtained a flat tire. This would not have been a problem, normally, but no one on the bus at the time had any mechanical experience or knew anything about changing flat tires. Their Algebra teacher, Miss. Roswell, had been about to call in a professional, therefore embarrassing the school and smudging its already dent pride, when Sam admitted that he knew quite well how to change a flat tire. He did so, and saved the school the trouble of hiring a mechanic and causing unnecessary charges, which would have required dipping into the school fund.

In return for saving the school the embarrassment of hiring a professional to fix something as simple as a flat tire, Sam got his name and picture in the paper, considering the fact that the reporters had nothing better to write about in a town as small as Perdido Beach. This instance was to be known as Sam's fifteen minutes of fame, and it was how he earned the nickname, 'School Bus Sam'.

Sam was now seriously beginning to regret his momentary act of kindness.

"Okay, if you're going to go charging head-first into that fire, which I assume you are, at least take this," Astrid the Semi-Genius said, handing Sam a damp cloth. "Put it over your face and remember; it's not the smoke that kills people, it's the fire." Astrid frowned. "No, wait, that came out wrong. It's the _smoke_ that kills people. Right? I think it's the smoke…"

Sam grabbed the piece of cloth from Astrid and clamped it over his mouth and nose, hoping this would make her shut up.

"Dude!" Sam turned to face Quinn, who had placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just want you to know I'm totally behind you on this, man. You've got my complete and utter support." Kangaroo Kelly frowned at him.

"You just bet me twenty bucks he wouldn't make it back alive!"

"Details, details," Quinn said quickly. "The point is that we're all behind you one hundred percent. Go get 'em tiger." Quinn slapped Sam on the back and pushed him toward the iterance of the burning building.

"Gee, I'm glad it's not me going in there," Sam heard one kid say.

"Yeah…poor sucker. Think we should pray for his safe return?"

"Are you crazy? I've got twelve bucks on his corpse."

Sam was about to tell the kids that he could hear every word they were saying, when another terrified cry erupted from the burning building. Thinking now was as good of time as any, Sam rushed into the building, followed by the cheers and boos of his school mates.

Upon entering, Sam was struck by how _dark _it was inside. Seriously, wasn't it supposed to be bright? There was a rampaging fire!

But, alas, the dark smoke blocked out all potential sources of light for Sam. He coughed and stumbled through the building, wondering why Astrid had bothered giving him the damp cloth. It wasn't doing any good.

"Help! Why hasn't anyone come to save me yet? Do any of you people care? Help!" Sam turned toward the sound of the semi-frightened and semi-annoyed cry. It was coming from behind a bolted door. Dark cough-inducing smoke was rushing through the cracks of the door, giving it a hellish appearance. Sam cursed under his breath as he went to work, banging on the door in hopes of breaking it down.

Finally, the door gave. The smoke cleared for a moment, and Sam took the opportunity to gulp down some air and curse again. He wiped his hand over his forehead and caught sight of the girl who had been screaming. She couldn't have been older than Little Pete; she had curly black hair done up in pigtails and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking extremely P.. When she caught sight of Sam she screamed.

"Holy crap! It's Invader Zim! He's going to eat out my brains!"

Before Sam had the chance to ask who the hell Invader Zim was, or why he wanted to eat her brain, the small girl stuck up her hands. Flames poured out of them and rushed toward Sam at lightning speed. Sam barely had enough time to duck before the flames soared over his head.

The girl screamed again, this time in anger at missing her target. Seeing the determination in her small face, Sam knew she wouldn't miss again. He was about to be killed by a bratty little kid, and all for the sake of a bet. Fury filled Sam. He really hoped that Quinn enjoyed those twenty dollars; they were going to be the last he ever saw. Sam would make sure of it, even if he had to rise from the dead and haunt Quinn himself.

Suddenly, as the anger burned through Sam, he realized he had to go to the bathroom. When was the last time he'd been? Nine a.m. this morning? Much too long ago in his opinion.

Which meant that Sam was going to die at the hand of a five-year-old while having to pee? This was extremely un-manly.

Sam's hands twitched. The familiar feminine feeling burned through him and Sam barely had time to think, _Not this again!_ before hot pink light shot out of his open palms. The sparkly pink light hit the girl in the chest, making her glow like a Christmas Special for a moment before she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Sam breathed a sigh of relief; if the girl was unconscious, then not only could she not attack him, but she would also be unable to tease him about his shiny pink light. If the fire didn't kill him, Sam was sure the embarrassment would.

Stumbling forward, Sam grabbed the girl and slung her over his shoulders. He kicked at the partly open window, and forced it open. Amazingly, pair of hands were there to take the brat from his arms. Sam slumped against the wall, thoroughly exhausted. He only just had the energy to pull himself from the burning building before, being the manly man that he was, fainting.

*

Sam awoke from a very peaceful dream about him mother, the sand, and the surf, to stare into Astrid's pimply face. She slapped him across the cheek, and Sam yelped in surprise.

"What was that for?" he moaned, trying to sit up.

"Just making sure you were conscious," Astrid said, giving an innocent shrug.

"So…" Sam asked, glancing around him, "did she make it?" Astrid shook her head.

"Nope, she's dead. Good thing too; I won thirty bucks off of Mary." Sam rolled his eyes and stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

"Where's Quinn?" he asked.

"Over there, moping about his lost bet," Astrid said, pointing to a nearby park bench. Quinn was sitting there, head in his hands. Sam sighed; despite the fact that Quinn, his best and only friend, had bet on his death and was now moping about his lack of winnings, Sam supposed that he should comfort him. After all; what were friends for?

"Hey man," Sam said sitting beside Quinn. Quinn didn't respond. "Dude…look, I know you're bummed about loosing your bet, but come on! Worse things than that have happened." Quinn lifted up his head to glare at Sam.

"Like what?" Sam struggled to think of an answer.

"Well…there's the whole everyone-over-the-age-of-fifteen-has-gone-AWAL thing. That's totally worse." Quinn thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, you're right, that's worse," he said after a moment. "Besides, now that I think about it, it would kinda suck if you were dead." Sam fought the incredible urge to facepalm, and instead gave his friend a small smile.

"Thanks, man. Means a lot to me."

As soon as Sam spoke those words, Astrid skipped over to them.

"Now that you two have finished your guy talk, we need to get back to searching for my brother. I've checked everywhere he normally goes on his 'off days', and I still can't find him." Sam frowned, knowing that Petey could be virtually anywhere during one of his 'off days', days recommended by his therapist where Pete was required to spend quality time with his parents. Sam couldn't, for the life of him, understand why most of these days happened to fall on school days. The only reasoning he could fathom, was that Pete was smart enough to be able to make up any work he hadn't completed, and that weekends for the Ellison's were too jam packed for there to be any down time.

Well, either that or his teachers were desperate to be rid of him.

"Well, is there anywhere he normally goes?" Sam asked with strained patience. He really didn't want to follow Astrid the Semi-Genius around in search of her annoying brother, but it looked as though he didn't have a choice.

"Well," Astrid said after a moment of thought, "my mom likes to play tennis at Clifftop. He could be there." Sam clapped his hands together.

"Then that's where we'll go." Astrid's face lit up at the word 'we'll'.

"You guys are coming with me?" she asked.

"It's not like we've got anything better to do," Quinn pointed out. Sam nodded in agreement. In a small town like this, even supernatural disasters were unexciting.

So the unexpected trio started down the street. Kids constantly came up to them, asking if they knew what had happened to the adults, when they were going to be saved. Sam politely told these kids to bug off, Quinn told them to listen to some jazz to 'mellow out', while Astrid simply ignored them, splitting her time up between worrying about Petey and gazing lovingly up at Sam. Sam wasn't quite sure which he found more annoying.

As the gang came to the intersection, they stumbled upon Orc's crew.

Orc was an oversized eighth grade thug. At the moment he was sitting in a lawn chair, his goons Panda and Cookie trying unsuccessfully to start a fire. His girlfriend, Halley, was standing by his side, holding a baseball bat. Halley was Perdido Beach School's only official drag queen who spent half of her time as Halley and the other half as Howard. No one was completely sure whether or not Halley/Howard was male or female; she/he'd been going back and forth between dresses and jeans since nursery school. However, what everyone did know was that he/she was the permanent girlfriend of Orc, the toughest thug in the school. If you messed with Halley, you messed with Orc. This was party why no one dared tease her about her too-tight tank tops and hairy legs in the past.

As of now Halley was wearing a tight miniskirt and blue shirt with a hoodie. Her dark eyes were made up with mascara and her lips had a light coating of lip gloss on them. Halley drummed her French-tipped fingernails on her metal bat, glaring menacingly at the trio as they approached. After a moment she sashayed over to them, swinging her hips in and out with practiced perfection.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't School Bus Sam," she said in an annoyingly high voice. "And what _are_ we doing out so late, hmm?" Sam sighed. He really wasn't in the mood to play Halley's games.

"We're just going for a walk, Halley." Halley's eyes narrowed as she looked Sam, Quinn, and Astrid up and down, her eyes straying on both Quinn ands Astrid's forms longer than necessary. Another one of the many mysteries concerning Halley/Howard was his/her sexuality. There were days when you would find Halley having a passionate make-out session with Orc, and days when you would find Howard flirting unabashedly with the Perdido Beach School cheerleaders.

"Yeah, well, if you're going for a 'walk' somewhere, you'd better bring Orc and me back something." Sam frowned at the girl/guy before him.

"What do you mean?" he growled. Halley winked.

"I mean if ya know what's good for ya, you'll bring us back a little somethin' somethin'. You wouldn't want to make Orc mad at you, would ya?" Halley turned expectantly to Orc who grunted a, "Sure." Halley grinned.

"Some big hero you are, Sam," Panda said, standing. "Just 'cause you changed a flat tire one day and provided entertainment for this useless town, doesn't make you a big shot or anything." Sam's fists clenched.

"I never asked to be a hero," Sam muttered. Halley giggled.

"Lookit! He's blushing!" Orc grunted a laugh, which caused the rest of his gang to join in as well.

"Whatever, Halley. We're leaving now." Sam purposely grabbed both Astrid and Quinn's shoulders, to which Astrid responded by linking her arm through Sam's. Sam tried to shake her off and failed as Halley dissolved into laughter.

"Nuh-uh! Gotta wait 'til the light changes." She pointed to the stoplight with her baseball bat. Sam growled and probably would've punched Halley right in her pretty face had Astrid not been clutching his arm so tightly the circulation was in danger of being cut off.

Then the light changed to green and Halley waved them through, laughing all the way.

**A/N: Ha-ha! I did it! I finished! *does happy dance* I hope you all enjoyed reading this! My next update might not be for a while, so if you haven't seen anything from me on this story recently check out the Drabbles or PM me a threat. R&R, please!**

**Preview for the next chapter: Edilio tries to put the moves on Astrid, Mary gets pissed off at our favorite drag queen, Albert makes burgers, and Lana discovers she's in an even bigger predicament than she ever dreamed. Will Sam return to Perdido Beach? Will Edilio win in wooing Astrid? Will Little Pete learn to stop cursing? Read to find out! **


	2. The Drama Begins

**A/N: Hello world of Gone! It's me, Caris, posting! I would have posted this chapter last night, but there was a major power outage, causing me to loose some of my work. **** Oh, well. It's here now, isn't it? I don't think this chapter is particularly funny, but it does cover everything leading up to Caine's grand entrance. So, yay me. **

**Dedication: To Rouge Apple, HippyChick, and Hyperactive Lioness. You people rock my socks off. **

**Chapter Two: The Drama Begins (contains chapters six through thirteen of Gone) **

When Sam, Quinn, and Astrid reached Clifftop, it was very dark. So dark, in fact, that Astrid claimed to be unable to see where she was going, and used this as an excuse to hang onto Sam's arm at all times. Sam tried several times to loosen Astrid's hold on him, but it was in vain. Astrid was like a python; once she had a good grip on something, she never let go.

Upon entering Clifftop, the first thing that struck Sam was how empty it was. Elevators stood open, cars were abandoned, and TVs flickered. It was like walking through a ghost town.

But the strangest thing there had to be the wall.

The barrier glowed and cut right through the middle of the tennis court. It appeared to reach up to the sky, its outer limits touching the stars above.

"Okay, who put a wall in the middle of the tennis court?" Quinn asked. Astrid just shook her head.

Sam reached out with his free arm to touch the barrier…and yelped.

"Ow! Jeez, that hurt!" Astrid stared up at Sam, concern in her eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked. Before Sam could respond she'd taken his hand and placed his fingertips in her mouth. Sam watched in horror as she began to suck at them.

"Astrid!" He pulled back his hand, rapidly wiping her spit on his jeans. If she took offense to this she didn't show it, though she did cling to Sam's arm with slightly more force.

"Dude, it's like, a force field or something," Quinn said as he, being the idiot that he was, touched the wall. Sam rolled his eyes as Quinn yelped in pain.

"Whoa, major shock," Quinn said. He then grinned wickedly at Sam and touched the wall again. He yelped and jumped back, waving his hand around. Then he touched the wall again, repeating the process. Again. And again. And again.

"Quinn, dude, stop it. You'll lose brain cells that way."

"Too late," Astrid stage-whispered. Quinn shot her a dirty glare before putting his hand down.

Suddenly a light seemed to go off in Quinn's usually vacant head.

"Sam, dude, I just realized that this barrier is what's cutting us off from the rest of the world. I think that's enough of a cause for me to have another break-down, right?" Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. You go ahead, man. Astrid and I are gonna go find a room to stay in, in an effort to draw out the story and not have to deal with Pete." Quinn nodded.

"Makes sense." Astrid gazed up lovingly at Sam as they walked into the hotel.

Quinn them threw up his hands in the air and dramatically yelled, "_Why me?!" _as the scene ended.

*

Albert Hillsborough was not a tall kid. In fact, he was the shortest in his class. He was so short that, in the past, he had constantly been mistaken for a toddler, and let into museums for free. While this saved his already poor family the trouble of having to buy him a youth or adult ticket, it was a true embarrassment. At four feet tall Albert's head only just cleared the top of the McDonald's counter.

As Albert strode into the fast food eatery, the first thing he noticed was the noise. A smoke alarm, a burglary alarm, and a timer had all gone off, and were now beeping loudly at him. To Albert's sensitive ears the sound was unbearable. The small boy frowned as he walked over to the alarms, passing the sacred counter as he did.

After many failed attempts at climbing a ladder, and finding a ladder that was tall enough to get him up to the smoke alarm, Albert was able to eliminate that particular blaring noise. He sighed with relief as he climbed down the ladder, reaching over and flipping the off switch on the grill's timer. It sounded once, a happy little noise, before singing, "You're goose is cooked, kid!" and cackling at Albert. This thoroughly disturbed the short fourteen-year-old, and he made a quick mental note to dispose of that timer as soon as possible.

As Albert took a step back to admire the McDonald's kitchen, it struck him that he was, for the first time, completely alone. No bossy sisters yelling at him to buy them magazines or tell the boys on the phones that No, they weren't and never would be home, or out of the shower. No deadbeat brothers who demanded foot rubs from Albert after they returned from their minimum-wage jobs. And certainly no crazy mother screaming at him to feed her awful cat. God, did Albert _hate_ cats. Especially his. It hissed whenever it saw him, sticking out its sharp claws. Its beady eyes followed him everywhere; there were even days when Albert could swear the thing followed him into the bathroom when he showered. He could hear it just beyond the curtain. Meowing and taunting him. _"Who's afraid, Albert?" _it would whisper to him at night. _"Who's afraid of the big, bad putty-tat?" _

One good thing about the adults being gone; no one to tell him to go home and feed the cat. That stupid, awful cat.

Almost unconsciously, Albert opened the door to the man-sized freezer, finding rows upon rows of frozen burgers, patties, and other hamburger ingredients. Albert's eyes widened as he stared at the ingredients. Behind that abnormally large head, wheels were spinning in Albert's mind.

He could run the McDonald's.

Why not? The adults were gone. Poofed, disappeared. And it wasn't like anyone else was going to come along and do it. No, if anyone should run the McDonald's while the adults were gone, it should be him.

Because, his phobia of cats aside, Albert had one other great secret. He loved to cook.

It was true. Midget Albert who could barely reach the stove at home had a passion for cooking. Particularly French cooking. No one knew it, but Albert had a copy of The Art of French Cooking by Julia Child under his pillow at home. He read it, slept with it, even ate with it when necessary. It was his closest friend, his Bible, his partner. He'd lived by the words of Mrs. Child for over two years, and he liked to think it would make her proud to see him run a restaurant under her guidance.

The door to McDonalds opened, and two eighth grade boys walked in. "You open?" one asked. Albert nodded, having to jump to be seen over the counter. The two boys glanced at each other in unison, both wary about this misfit employee. Finally the boys shrugged and read the menu.

"We'll take two number-one combos," the taller of the two said.

"And—what—would—you—like—as your—beverage?" Albert asked in between jumps.

"Orange sodas." Albert nodded.

"Coming—right up!" Albert scurried over to the ladder, placing it in front of grill. He flipped open the manual to look up the instructions for French fries, and hoped feverously that everything he needed would be within reaching-distance.

*

"No, no, no! How many times do I have to tell you? Cashmere! Come on; say it with me now, cash-_mere_." Lana crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Patrick. That stupid dog had mixed up cotton with cashmere again!

Patrick had just returned from another one of his little trips, a cotton sweater in his mouth. As soon as Lana had figured out that Patrick could understand most orders she gave him, she'd started sending him out on errands. Bring me sunglasses, get me a bottle of water, hunt down some Aspirin, find me some lunch; ect. The problem was, Lana was never satisfied with what Patrick brought back. The sandwiches were too soggy, the shades had smudges on them, the water was tap (Lana only drank spring water), and so on.

Now Patrick had brought her a cotton sweater, and that was simply the last straw. She crawled toward him, wincing each time her broken ankle hit the dirt.

"Listen to me you stupid mutt," she growled, putting her face inches away from Patrick's, "I don't have time for this crap. I'm stranded in the middle of the desert with only a _dog_ to help me, I've got a broken ankle, my hair is a mess, and my nails are ruined! And what do I ask for? A simple cashmere sweater? You should be able to do at least _that_. I mean, what kind of hero-dog can't even find a stupid sweater? Now, I want you to go out and find me a real sweater, and don't let me see your hairy hide around here until you do."

Patrick whined, putting his tail between his legs. He was just about to sulk off and find his mistress the proper sweater, when a low growl pierced the night air. The fur on Patrick's back rose, and even Lana shut up for a moment.

"What was that?" she asked. Patrick growled in response, putting himself between Lana and the potential threat.

Out from the shadows emerged a mountain lion. Its green eyes glared at Patrick, who stood protectively in front of Lana.

"Would you move out of the way?" she asked, shoving at Patrick's side. "I want to take a picture of it with my cell." Lana aimed her razor's camera at the wild beast. As the flash went off the lion went into an immediate frenzy. He clawed at dead air and roared before charging at Lana. Patrick, ignoring his common sense, stood his ground, and shoved the lion off course. Lana screamed.

"Yeah! You get 'em Patrick! You show that over-sized house cat who's boss!" Patrick woofed in response before launching himself at the lion. Lana's eyes widened as she watched the fight progress with snarling and kicking and clawing. She hadn't seen anything this dramatic since the last episode of Degrassi, and took full advantage of her situation by digging out some stale popcorn Patrick had given her an hour ago, munching on it as she watched.

After a long and very dramatic battle the mountain lion let out one final howl before retreating. Lana whooped and shoved her fist in the air, cursing at the retreating cat.

"That's right! You'd _better _run! Ooh, who's scared now, huh? Don't look so tough, do you?" Lana grinned as Patrick came to sit by her side. "Not bad, Smelly," she said.

In her gratitude Lana stuck out a hand and patted Patrick's neck. Lana squealed and pulled it back when she realized that Patrick had been wounded and was covered in blood.

"Eww!" she wailed, trying desperately to keep the red stuff from staining her shirt. "You cut yourself." Lana frowned, inspecting the wound. "Huh. Looks pretty bad." Lana's eyes almost took on something close to pity for a moment before she shrugged and rolled over onto her side.

"Hope you don't die," said, patting the dog's neck one last time before drifting off to sleep. Patrick wagged his tail with joy.

For a few moments there, he'd been _that _close to a compliment!

*

After Quinn finished his over-dramatic break-down, the unlikely trio made their way upstairs to one of the larger suites. Exhausted, Quinn collapsed on the nearest bed, his snores loud and obnoxious. Sam winced and leaned his head against the nearest wall. He, too, was exhausted. It felt like a planet's worth of weight was on his shoulders.

"Well," Astrid said bluntly, "this sucks." Sam nodded, for once agreeing with her. Astrid beamed and wrapped her arms around Sam's waist, who was becoming much too tired to fight her off.

"What do you think it is?" Sam asked. Astrid shrugged.

"Well, I have a couple of theories, but they all involve aliens, Jesus, and 2012, so I don't think they apply to this situation very well. What do _you_ think this is?" Sam shrugged.

"No idea. Hey, what do you think happens to kids when they turn fifteen? If all the fourteen and unders are here, do you think that kids over fifteen disappear?"

"I don't know," Astrid responded. "When's your birthday?"

"Twelve days from now; the twenty-second." Astrid shook her head.

"Mine's not 'til March. You poor sucker." Sam frowned. There was a long, awkward pause, in which many gay babies were likely to have been born outside of the barrier.

Finally, Astrid said, "You know, I was there. That day on the bus. When I saw you change that flat tire, I knew you were something special. I knew that there was something incredible about you, Sam. Like today with the fire. You risked your life for the sake of our entertainment and Las Vegas experience. That was real bravery." Sam blushed.

"Yeah, well, I never asked to be a hero."

"Um, no offence, but I don't think that heroes really get a choice these days. Someone just gets bitten with a radioactive bug or falls into a vat of lab chemicals and _boom!_ they become a hero. Unfortunately for you, it took all of the adults within spitting distance disappearing and a giant wall appearing, therefore trapping us in this hellhole, for you to finally accept the cape." Sam glared down at the dorky blond by his side.

"You're very good at this pep-talk stuff. Thanks, Astrid." She broke out into a smile, obviously not noting the sarcasm in Sam's voice.

"You're welcome!" She leaned over, kissing Sam on the cheek. "Well, I'm going to go to bed now. Oh, and, just so you know, all of my hopes and dreams for our very survival are resting on you. No pressure." She flashed him another smile before darting back inside.

Sam stared at his palms after Astrid was gone.

When he seriously had to pee he could make a pink light.

He could make a man run away, speechless with embarrassment.

And he wasn't the only one. There had been that bratty little kid. Who knew how many more where out there now?

Sam knew that these thoughts should disturb him, perhaps even frighten him.

But all he could think about was how much he wanted a beef taco.

*

"For the love of god, shut up!" Mary Terrafino yelled. The small girl in her arms whimpered.

"I want my mommy," she said. Mary roughly pulled a new diaper onto the child.

"Yeah, and I want a break, but neither of us are getting that, are we?" The girl stared up into Mary's eyes for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable sobs. Mary sighed.

"_John!" _she yelled. _"John, get in here!" _A small boy with hair like flames entered the room, a baby balanced on each hip.

"What?" he asked, glaring at his older sister. Mary stood, shoving the crying girl at John.

"Here, take her, I need some fresh air." John's eyes widened.

"Are you on crack? I can't take care of all these kids with only Eloise to help!" Mary rolled her eyes, pulling a Twix bar from her back pocket and shoving it down her throat.

For the last ten hours Mary, John, and Eloise had been watching the littles at the daycare center. Mary had fed, changed, and comforted little kids until she felt like her arms would fall off or her legs would stop working. Every time she turned around there was another little noisemaker demanding his or her mommy, or another hug, or another juice box. And Mary was at her wits end. Couldn't these kids give her a minute's peace? She was fourteen for Christ's sake; she needed her beauty sleep.

And that crying toddler had been the last straw. She was going to get another nanny for these whiners if it was the last thing she did.

"Yeah, well, suck it up. I'll be back in a few minutes. I have a few choice words I need to say to Sam." Mary glared off into the distance, her hands curling into fists at the mention of Sam. Because talking about Sam made Mary think about his little dorky sidekicks, Astrid and Quinn. And when she thought of Astrid and Quinn, she thought of the money she'd lost. A whole forty dollars! Thirty to Astrid and ten to Quinn. _One way or another, _Mary thought, _those idiots are going to pay. _

Giving her brother a final glare, Mary exited the daycare center, slamming the door closed behind her. She could have sworn to hearing a collective sigh of relief at her departure, but she was sure that it was just her imagination.

It didn't take Mary long to find Halley, sipping a Mountain Dew, a sinister smile on her face.

"I need to talk to you," Mary said. Halley's eyebrows rose.

"About what? Your fashion dilemma or your bad hairdo. Seriously, girl, you ever even _seen_ a barber?" Mary glowered at Halley, her patience at its snapping point.

"Look, do you know where Sam is or not?" Halley grinned.

"Oh, so _that's_ what you wanted to talk to me about. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but he ain't here right now." Mary's fingers twitched.

"Then where is he?" Halley shrugged.

"I dunno. He ran off with Astrid the Semi-Genius and that surfer dude, Quinn, hours ago." Mary blinked in astonishment. She'd never imagined Sam willingly going anywhere with those idiots before.

"Then…who's in charge?" Halley laughed, cruel and hard.

"Ain't nobody in charge, sister. Ain't nobody around. Well, except Orc an' me, that is." Mary snorted.

"You cannot be serious. You expect me to believe that you and _Orc_ are in charge? You two can't even get passing grades in Algebra, much less run this place." Halley's fist clenched against her metal bat.

"You best watch how you be talkin' about me an' Orc, girlie," Halley warned.

"Or what?" Mary asked.

"Or…or…" Halley frowned, her brow furrowing in concentration. Long-term plans were not her thing.

"Or I'll slap you!" Mary rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I'm trembling. I'm so totally afraid of the half-wit drag queen with an egotistic attitude." Halley growled, not completely sure of what Mary had said. But it had been insulting, and that was all the encouragement she needed.

Without warning Halley reached over and slapped Mary. Her French-tipped nails left red lines against Mary's cheek. Mary, stunned, put a hand to her hurt cheek.

"You hit me!" she shrieked. "Bitch!"

And the next thing the residents of Perdido Beach knew, a catfight broke out between the two most unpopular females around. Mary grabbed hold of Halley's extensions as Halley shrieked in anger, trying to claw her way out of Mary's grasp.

"Hey, look, it's Mary and Halley! I think they're fighting to the death!"

"Awesome! Hey, you can take her Hal! Just put a little elbow grease into it."

"Are you kidding me? Halley's a goner. You haven't seen what Mary does to misbehaving kids before."

And so the not-so epic battle raged on. Soon it progressed from a punch and kick fight to a full-on bitch-slapping contest. It didn't take long for Mary to win, but by the time she did both girls were so exhausted and bruised that they had no idea what had started the fight in the first place.

"Hey," Mary said to Halley, getting to her feet, "do you think you could round up some suckers to baby-sit? I'm done." Halley shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I haven't got anything better to do." Mary nodded at her and the girls parted ways, Halley back to her beer-loving boyfriend, and Mary back to her pain-in-the-neck kids.

*

Sam woke the next morning to find Astrid by the window, staring at the barrier. Sam cursed his bad luck. He'd been hoping that the previous days' events were nothing but a nightmare, and he wasn't really trapped in a hotel room with Astrid and Quinn. But the mutterings of, "No, man, I'm just chillin', didn't steal no one's hot dog," from the opposite room confirmed his fears; he was still a girly hero and he was still searching for Little Pete with his admirer.

"Morning Sam," Astrid said. Sam nodded at her, standing and crossing to the window. The barrier was still there, a glowing black wall reaching for the sky.

"Darn, it's still there," Sam muttered. Astrid rolled her eyes at him.

"What? Did you think that it would just magically disappear overnight?" Sam wanted very badly to point out that that was exactly how the wall had gotten there in the first place, but Quinn interrupted him.

"Yo, what's that noise out there? It's totally messing with my mellow." Sam frowned, listening to the noise.

"Sounds like…an engine?" The trio glanced at each other for a moment before running downstairs.

To their surprise it was not an adult rescue party coming to free them, but Edilio Escobar, trying to dig his way out of Perdido Beach with a backhoe. Quinn's eyebrow's rose as he watched the short Hispanic kid, his hair combed stylishly out of his face, his white shirt open, exposing most of his chest, curse at the machine he was handling.

"Whoa, man, wicked idea," Quinn yelled. Edilio jumped about a foot in the air, having noticed their arrival. He wiped the sweat from his brow and shot them a smile.

"_Hola amigos_. What are you all doing here, out in the middle of nowhere?" Sam shrugged nonchalantly as they strode up to Edilio.

"Nothing much. You?"

"Oh, same old, same old. Just trying to dig my way back home." Sam nodded.

"Mind if we help?" Edilio shook his head and handed both Quinn and Sam shovels.

"Hey, how come dorks-a-lot doesn't have to dig?" Quinn asked, jerking a thumb at Astrid.

"Because she is a lady," was Edilio's calm reply. Both Quinn and Sam turned around, searching for the mysterious lady that Edilio was talking about. But the only female in their line of vision was Astrid, who was leaning against the side of the backhoe, sweating like a pig.

"If you say so," Sam muttered, grabbing a shovel.

For the next thirty minutes the boys worked on trying to dig themselves out of Perdido Beach, Astrid cheering them on from the sidelines. Sam wished that she would just shut up for once in her life, when his shovel hit hard rock. He could no longer dig, was exhausted, and had a headache. Sam sighed and put his shovel aside, accepting a helping hand from Edilio, who pulled him from the hole.

"Ah, well, that's the way it goes," he said, leaning against the backhoe next to Astrid, who was staring unnervingly at Sam.

"Do you think there's _any _way out of this fishbowl?" Sam asked. Edilio shrugged.

"_No sé_." Quinn sighed.

"Look, man, I get that you're from Honduras and all, but could _please_ speak English?" Edilio frowned.

"I'm Mexican," he muttered.

"What?" Quinn asked.

"I said, I am Mexican. Everyone always assumes I am from Honduras. Bah! I spit on the Hondurans!" Edilio pantomimed spitting on the ground while Quinn and Sam shot each other looks. Quinn twirled a finger around his forehead. Sam was about to grin and nod, completely agreeing with Quinn that Edilio was crazy, when he remembered exactly who he was talking to.

"So," Astrid said, breaking up what was sure to be a rather uncomfortable silence, "are we done here yet? I need to go back to looking for Little Pete."

"Ah! Such a noble cause! To search for one's brother so relentlessly, even at one's own sake! You, my lady, are an angel." Astrid's eyes widened as Edilio bent and kissed her hand. Sam turned an unflattering shade of green. Quinn didn't look much better.

"Does that mean you're coming with us?" Astrid asked.

"My lady, I would follow you to the very pits of hell. Of course I will accompany you in your search for…what was your brother's name again?"

"Little Petey."

"Ah, yes, the abnormally smart five-year-old. I will help you search for Little Pete." Astrid beamed at Sam, her crooked teeth poking through her chapped lips.

"He can come with us, right, Sam?" Sam sighed, kneading his temples.

"Sure, Edilio can come." Astrid gave a small squeal of delight before hugging Sam. Sam tried to wrench the love-sick semi-smart girl off of him, but it was, as usual, a lost cause. He waited patently until she was done strangling him to ask Edilio if he had any way for them to get to the Power Plant, the only place left in Perdido Beach that the kids hadn't searched for Pete at.

"Yeah, I got something," he said. Edilio lead them to an out of the way garage, presenting them with two golf carts.

"Awesome, man, but you're totally driving," Quinn said, hopping in the back. Edilio shrugged, taking his place in the front seat. Astrid sat in the passenger's side, and Sam squeezed himself in the back next to Quinn.

Soon the misfit gang of not-so intelligent teenagers was off, cruising down the highway. Quinn dozed in the back, his head leaning dangerously toward Sam's lap. Sam could hear Astrid and Edilio converse in quiet tones in the front. Occasionally Astrid would let out a high pitched giggle, and Sam wondered how it was that Edilio could stand talking to her. Astrid's laughter was just about the most annoying noise in the world.

"Stop!" The golf cart jerked to a stop, almost sending its passengers flying. Astrid was out the door in a flash, kneeling beside what appeared to be a dead bird. Sam frowned. _Since when is Astrid an environmentalist? _he wondered.

"Whoa, man, why'd we pull over?" Quinn asked.

"Astrid asked me to stop," Edilio replied. Quinn rolled his eyes.

"And you'd just jump at the chance to impress Astrid, wouldn't you?" Edilio's cheeks burned an embarrassing shade of red. He muttered a curse in Spanish as Sam got out of the car, walking over to Astrid.

"Alright, what is it? What was so important that we had to stop in the middle of the road for you to look at?" Astrid poked the dead bird with a stick.

"Look at its feet, Sam. They have claws on them." Sam's brow furrowed; she was right. The seagull, a webbed-footed bird, had claws on it.

"Do you think it means that some strange new mutation is occurring among the birds, a sign of some much greater trouble that has yet to occur?" Astrid blinked at him.

"Actually, I was just thinking that if we cooked it, this seagull might taste pretty good. But, you know, you could be right." Sam once again resisted the urge to facepalm.

"Let's just get back in the golf cart."

Again, Sam and his friends drove off. As their drive progressed they spotted abandoned cars and bicycles parked all along the road. To this Quinn would mutter, "Bad vibes, man. Seriously bad vibes." Sam would nod. For once, Quinn was right; this place was giving him the chills.

Soon the gang passed a mini-mart. Sam spotted kids milling about it, and his panic-oh-meter raised three notches.

"I say we keep going. We don't talk to them; we don't even look at them. We just ignore them." Astrid nodded in agreement, and therefore, so did Edilio. Quinn shrugged.

"I dunno, man. I'm getting a bad feeling, here. Maybe we should stop."

But Sam wasn't listening. Out of the mini-mart popped non other than Cookie, one of Orc's thugs. He was followed by Halley (Or was it Howard that day? Sam couldn't tell.) and some kid no one recognized. Each thug carried a metal baseball bat, and was glaring at the passing golf cart.

"Don't look at them, don't look at them," Sam muttered.

"Bad vibes, bad vibes," Quinn muttered.

"Sam!" Cookie yelled, waving his free hand in the air. Sam pretended to ignore this.

"Hey, Sam, stop your cart!" Sam winced at the high pitched wail of Halley's voice, but Edilio didn't slow. Quinn's fingers were twitched as he rocked back and forth, while Astrid seemed to find this all very amusing. Sam sent her a withering glare to which she responded by winking flirtatiously at him. Or, at least as flirtatious as Astrid could get.

"Just keep moving," Sam murmured. Edilio shrugged and then gunned it. Sadly, 'gunning it' on a golf cart meant going at about the speed of a six-year-old girl, but since Halley and Cookie hadn't seen a gym in the past three years, it really didn't matter.

"Hey! We—told you—to—stop!" Halley yelled between pants.

"Just ignore her, just ignore her," Sam said.

"Hey! Don't you—ignore me!" Halley screamed. Her hair flopped ridiculously over her face, her arms flailed at her sides, and her skirt poofed out in all the wrong places.

"Orc! Get those idiots! They're ignoring me!" Sam heard Orc sigh and grumble something about Halley being 'needy', but nevertheless hopped into one of the Hummers by the side of the road. Halley scrambled in beside him, shouting at Cookie and Mallet to make sure that the golf cart didn't get away.

"Oh, man, they're totally gonna kill us!" Quinn wailed. "I'm too young to get my eyes gouged out with Halley's nails!"

The Hummer revved and swerved in the middle of the road, looking as though it were about to fall on its side. Quinn whimpered.

"How can you be worried about what Halley might do to you with her nails when we're in danger of getting run over?" Astrid wondered. Quinn shuddered.

"You haven't seen something bad 'til you've seen what damage Halley can do with those nails," was all he would say on the matter. The Hummer gave another violent jerk, and that was the last straw for Quinn's fried nerves.

"Ahhh!" he yelled, jumping from the golf cart. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, opposite the Hummer. Sadly for Quinn, he had chosen yesterday morning to wear extremely baggy pants which, as he ran, fell off of his buttocks and tangled themselves around his knees. Quinn gave a violent jerk before falling over, face first, into a ditch. He scrambled to pull his pants back up, probably regretting his earlier decision not to wear a belt, when Mallet and Cookie reached him, their bats swinging dangerously.

"I should probably go save him," Sam said. Astrid and Edilio nodded, bring the cart to a stop.

Sam stepped calmly out of the golf cart, speed-walking over to his whimpering and pants-less friend. Cookie and Mallet were laughing hysterically.

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Sam said. The laughter stopped.

"Who told you to butt in, huh, Sam?" Cookie asked.

"Because, despite being a boneheaded idiot and a useless surfer dude, Quinn's my friend, and I'm not going to let you beat the crap out of him." Cookie and Mallet exchanged shrugs.

"Suit yourself," Cookie said, taking aim and swinging.

What followed was a short, manly fight, where Cookie and Mallet tried to beat the crap out of Sam and Edilio, as Quinn whimpered in the background, still trying to pull up his pants. Halley and Astrid gossiped on the sidelines about hair and makeup, while Orc just stood there, looking very bored indeed.

"Okay, this fight has gone on long enough," Astrid said at last, coming to Sam's aid. Halley nodded.

"Yeah, the testosterone-off has definitely lasted long enough." Halley snapped her fingers, and Orc broke up the fight.

"Now that my boys are done beating you up, we want to steal your golf cart and make you walk ten miles to the Power Plant," Orc said. Sam fumed quietly as Edilio staring cursing in Spanish and Quinn moaned over a scrape on his elbow.

"Fine, whatever, take it," Sam muttered. Halley grinned.

"Thatta boy, Sammy," she said. Orc grunted and took his thugs to go steal the cart. "Now you'll know to take us seriously. So, when you come back from the Plant, you best have something for us. Remember Sammy, as long as the FAYZ is here, _we're_ in charge." She was met with blank stares.

"The phase?" Astrid asked.

"Not P-H-A-S-E, but F-A-Y-Z. The FAYZ. It's Fallout Alley Youth Zone. Geddit? It's just a FAYZ, kiddies. It's just a FAYZ." Astrid nodded.

"Oh, I see! You've invented a clever acronym to explain our unexplainable situation, therefore giving yourself self-importance!" Halley blinked.

"Is she always like this?" Sam sighed.

"Yes, Halley. With Astrid, unfortunately, it's not just a FAYZ."

*

When Lana woke she was surprised to see that her smelly dog, Patrick, had survived the night. He was bounding around, unnaturally cheerful, as if begging her to come and play with him.

"I thought for sure that bite would have killed you," Lana muttered, sitting up. She reluctantly called Patrick over to inspect his wound.

To her even greater shock, she found the wound gone. Gone! As though it had never existed. The only proof that it had ever been there, was the dried blood in Patrick's fur.

Had it been a miracle? Was that how Patrick had been healed? Lana struggled to remember the events of the previous evening, but the fog that clouded her brain wouldn't allow her to. The only thing she could think was, _Why the stupid dog? Why couldn't it, whatever it is, have healed me! I'm much prettier. _

"Dumb animal," Lana grumbled. "Why do the smelly animals always get saved?" She glowered at Patrick, who wagged his tail stupidly.

Deciding that she'd had enough of this crap, Lana placed her hands on her hurt leg. Maybe whatever had happened to Patrick would happen to her now.

It took a long time for Lana to heal herself. This was because she was constantly loosing focus, and letting her hands slip off of her ankle. But it healed.

And then Lana did something that Patrick had feared she would never get off her lazy butt and do; she stood.

"You snooze, you loose," Lana said to a couple of nearby vultures, sticking out her tongue at them in parting.

*

On foot it took Sam and his friends the rest of the day to reach the Power Plant. Even with their stolen bikes, it was still dark by the time they reached the large metal gate that surrounded the plant. Everyone stared at the gate and then turned to stare at Sam.

"Oh, fine, I'll climb it," he grumbled, taking off his shirt, much to Astrid's delight.

With much difficulty Sam scaled the fence and ran inside. He shivered at the coolness of the air conditioning, and searched for a spare shirt. He found one in a closet next to about three-thousand guns. He briefly wondered who had been stupid enough to place guns near a nuclear reactor before shutting the closet door and letting in his friends.

"Okay," Astrid said as soon as they were all inside, "let's start looking for Pete."

The gang set out to search the Turbine room first. Astrid led the way, her untied sneakers flip-flopping against the floor.

"Hey," Edilio asked at one point, "we aren't going to get, like, radiation poisoning, right?" Astrid rolled her eyes.

"No, of course not. See those containment towers? The reactors are underneath them. If anything happens, like a leak, the containment towers hold it in. We're perfectly safe."

"Then why is this place called Fallout Alley?" Astrid sighed, coming to a stop.

"Look, that was, like, one freak accident. There's no way a meteorite from outer space is going to smash into the containment towers again! The chance of that happening twice is astronomical."

"Um, what are the chances of all the adults in the whole town disappearing at once?" Astrid opened her mouth to answer Quinn. But, in the end, she had no real come-back and closed it.

"See!" Quinn cried, slapping Edilio on the back. "That's my whole point. The weird and abnormal are happening all around us now; why not another Fallout Alley scenario? I mean, the radiation's still here, it's just buried underground." Edilio paled.

"It's _still here?!" _he hissed.

"Yep," Quinn answered jovially. "Practically under our feet." Edilio appeared to be close to fainting by the time the kids reached the Turbine room.

"Okay, guys, split up!" Astrid yelled over the roar of the motors. "To annoy you and cause trouble, Little Pete won't answer when you call. We're going to have to search all over for him. Good luck, and try not to let him bite you."

After twenty minuets of fruitless searching, the kids moved on.

"Maybe he's in the Control Room," Astrid muttered once they were out of range of the motors. Sam swiped a passkey along the lock on the door, opening it.

Sitting there in the middle of the room was Little Pete. He was playing his Game boy, a soda and Twix bar by his sides. He glanced up at the approaching teenagers.

"Well, it took you guys long enough." He then went back to his game. Astrid squealed.

"Petey!" she yelled, running up to her brother. She roped her arms around his neck, giving him a death squeeze. Unconsciously Sam fingered his own throat, almost feeling Astrid's hands clawing at his skin. Pete, however, didn't seem to even notice her presence. He patted her hair once before going back to his game, seemingly undisturbed by his sister's display of affection.

"Petey, you must be so hungry! Munchy munchy?" she asked, holding his head in her hands. Pete shrugged.

"Sure, food sounds good." Astrid grinned before turning to face Sam.

"Sam, could you go find us some food? I hate to leave Petey now; he's been alone for so long. Besides, he's just finally responding to me. Usually he ignores us all. That silly Game boy is the only thing he pays attention to." Sam resisted the urge to say, Gee, I wonder why?

"Sure, I'll go find something," he mumbled. "What do you guys want?"

"Chocolate," all of the boys and Astrid said. Sam shrugged.

"Chocolate it is." Sam was about to leave when he noticed Edilio staring at a chart. It had a red circle on it with a pink outline. In the center of the red line was Perdido Beach.

"What is it?" he asked, stepping forward.

"A chart," Astrid said. "It's on its default setting. The red and pink lines indicate where the danger zone would fall in case of a nuclear accident. The chart must not be getting feed from the weather satellites." Sam studied the chart. Suddenly his eyes widened.

"Astrid, the chart…it follows the barrier." Astrid frowned, staring at the pink and red lines with Sam. After a moment she nodded.

"Yeah…but that's got to be a coincidence. I mean, there's no way that could have anything to do with the FAYZ's occurrence." After a long pause Sam nodded, agreeing.

"Yeah, you're right. That would just be too freaky." From his corner of the room Pete snorted.

"If you think _that's _freaky, you ain't seen nothing yet." Astrid shot her brother a withering glare.

"Yo, Sam, you going to get that food yet?" Quinn asked, interrupting what could have easily turned into a fight. Sam swallowed his pride and nodded, heading for the door.

Just before leaving Sam saw Astrid trying to lay an arm on Pete's shoulder and avoid looking at him, and failing miserably at both.

*

Mary was sure that if she could down enough caffeine she would be able to blot out the annoying noises of crying children. Seriously, did they _never_ shut up?

After a few minutes of trying to learn how to operate a coffee maker, Mary had a steaming cup of brew in her hands. She poured about four packets of sugar in the cup, in an attempt to make it drinkable. She took a long gulp and sighed. Better.

Mary headed into the main room, the sound of screaming children following her. A small girl with wispy blond hair ran up to her, crying. Mary tried to push the child away, annoyed at having to play mommy to a bunch of whinny brats, and accidentally spilled the coffee on her.

"What the freak happened?" Mary growled at Anna and Emma, the Siamese twins who had wandered into the room. The two were inseparable. Literally. They were joined at the hip, and only possessed two legs and arms. Why they were in a daycare center, trying to nurture little kids when they could barely fit on a toilet seat themselves, was a question that would never be answered in Mary's mind.

"Why is that little girl crying?" Mary glowered at her brother, John, before setting the cup down on a nearby table.

"That's it," she hissed. "I'm taking a break." She shoved her way through the mass of weeping children, cursing her bad luck.

"Whatever you say Step-mother Mary," Eloise muttered. Mary pretended not to hear her and stormed out of the daycare, heading home.

When she got there, Mary collapsed into a chair, wishing for a nap. But she knew she couldn't go to sleep. If she did her brother John would lock her in the house with no way out, the way he always did when she misbehaved.

But…John certainly could keep her from eating all of the food. Could he?

An evil grin crossed Mary's pretty face.

She would show those brats who was in charge. All she had to do was eat all of their food. Then they would be sorry. Sorry they'd turned her life into a living hell.

Mary cracked her knuckles as she opened the first DoveBar in her refrigerator.

Revenge was sweet. Really sweet.

*

That night, as everyone was asleep, Sam stared up at the ceiling. It had been too late to leave the Power Plant and head back to town. Too late to do anything but plop down somewhere and try to sleep.

But Sam couldn't sleep. His mind kept spinning around and around in circles that seemed to go nowhere.

He stood, feeling self-conscious. Next to him lay Astrid, her arm around Pete. In the dark lightly she almost looked…well, not pretty. But maybe not ugly.

Sam stretched, popping his joints. He felt bone tired, but not sleepy. To clear his head Sam decided to pace. Yeah, just some light pacing to clear his head. What would that hurt?

As Sam started his walk around the Control Room, he smashed into a nearby desk. Sam howled in pain, clutching his leg and swearing.

And then Little Pete woke up. He took one look at Sam, hopping around on one foot and cursing like an old sailor, before raising his hands, palms up. Sam immediately stopped screaming.

Because he didn't have any air to scream with. He was choking.

"Would you shut up?" Little Pete asked, holding out his palms casually. "Seriously, dude, I was just trying to catch some Zs, and then you come along screaming. Can't you people just shut the hell up for one night?"

Sam clawed at his throat. It was on fire.

"I mean _honestly_. It's bad enough that I have to deal with Astrid, but now I've got three more morons to handle? One's enough, thank you very much."

Sam started seeing stars.

"I mean," Pete said, annunciating his points with waves of his hands, "what is up with getting up in the middle of the night and causing a scene? Are you all insomniacs? I mean, I knew you guys were damn strange before, but this is just pushing my limits."

Sam thought he could see a white light in the distance.

"Petey?" Astrid mumbled sleepily. When she caught sight of her brother holding her potential lover in a death in embrace she gave a small scream.

"Petey! Stop it! You're hurting him!" Petey rolled his eyes.

"Astrid, do me a favor? Shut the hell up." Astrid gasped.

"Petey! Language!"

Quinn and Edilio stirred and, seeing the strange scene before them, decided to ask what was going on.

"Well," Astrid explained, "it seems as though my brother has developed a bit of a potty mouth, though I don't know where he got it from, and Sam is choking on air." Quinn nodded thoughtfully.

"Okay, thanks, that clears things up a bit."

Sam wondered if this was what hell was like. Seeing your best friend more concerned about a potty mouth five-year-old than his life.

At that exact moment, Sam couldn't take it anymore. He was dying, his best friend was ignoring, and he had to pee. Again. It was just all too much.

So Sam raised his hands.

Out shot a bright, pink light, which was followed quickly by the scent of sprinkles. It flared bright in the enclosed room, lighting up like a firecracker.

"HOLY SH—"

"Petey!"

Everyone ducked which, to Sam's great relief, caused Petey to loose his grip on him.

For a moment, no one spoke. Everything was still.

"RUN!" Quinn screamed. No one even hesitated. They were out that door like the building was on fire, and not once did they look back.

*

Once outside Sam allowed himself to collapse on the soft desert sand. He'd nearly been killed for the second time in two days, and his pride was suffering greatly.

"Okay," Quinn said, catching his breath, "What the hell was that?" Astrid glared at Quinn for swearing, but no one paid her much mind. They were long past the point of caring whether a messed-up kindergartener heard swear words.

"I—" Sam said, unable to think of anything to say. "It was me, man. I did it." Quinn's eyebrows rocketed skyward.

"_You_ made that light?" Sam nodded as Quinn and Edilio burst into hysterical laughter.

"Dude! That pink bolt looked like it shot out of a My Little Pony play set!" Sam's fists clenched.

"That's hardly the point, Quinn," Astrid reminded the dysfunctional teenager.

"Um…what is?" he asked. Astrid sighed.

"Point is, Quinn, that both Sam and my brother have developed unexplainable powers, powers that others may also be coveting." Quinn blinked at her use of four-syllable words.

"So...?"

"So?!" Sam exploded. "In case you haven't noticed, that power can do a heck of a lot of damage! I mean, did you even see that fire yesterday?" Quinn's eyes widened.

"That was you?" Sam shook his head.

"No, it was the little girl. She did it. But think about it. If Pete and I can both do weird and crazy stuff, other people probably can, too. And they might use it to do some pretty creepy stuff."

"Like what?" Sam grimaced.

"Quinn, imagine Halley with the power to shoot lasers out of her pointed fingertips." All laughter abruptly can to a stop. Even Pete looked solemn.

"Dude, don't joke about something like that," Quinn said, shivering.

"No joke, man," Sam muttered. Suddenly he frowned. "Hey speaking of powers, what exactly can you _do, _Pete?" Pete glanced up at the gang from his video game.

"Lemme guess," Quinn said, "He shoots missiles out of his butt." Pete glared at Quinn.

"Maybe."

Everyone took a small step back.

"Okay," Astrid said after a moment, "just how many times has this happened, Sam? Your girly light?"

"Um," Sam thought. "About…four times? Yeah, that's it. Just now, that time in the fire, and I made a light come on in my bedroom. The power was off and I had to pee. In fact, all the times the power's worked I've had to pee." Edilio snorted.

"Are you saying you can only use your 'power' when you have to…urinate?" Sam grimaced.

"Oh, man, that's gonna be trouble during a fight."

"Wait," Astrid said, interrupting the boys' discussion, "you only named three occasions. What about the fourth?"

Sam paused, considering whether or not to tell them. It was his biggest secret. Then again, they already knew everything else…why not?

"Tom." Quinn's mouth hung agape. For the rest of them the word meant nothing, but Quinn knew instantly who Sam was talking about.

"Dude! You don't mean…your stepfather?" Sam nodded. "Dude."

"Why?" Edilio asked, moving closer to Astrid, "what happened?"

"Dude, I saw Tom a couple weeks ago in the city, buying some groceries. He's gotten worse, you know." Sam winced. He knew.

"What's gotten worse? What happened?" Quinn just shook his head.

"Nobody really knows. Tom said that he was talking to Sam's mom one night when this pink light hit him in the chest. He claimed it was a sign from god that he was meant to be girl. He left the house in one of Mrs. Temple's dresses. He's a drag queen now, hanging around the prier, flirting with the sailors. Heard he was dying with embarrassment at ever having married your mom." Now it was Edilio's turn to stare at Sam in shock.

"You turned your stepfather into a drag queen." Sam nodded.

"Like I said; you people are damned strange." Astrid put her hand over her brother's lips.

"Look," she said, taking a deep breath, "there's no reason for this to get out. I say we keep a low profile and don't talk about this again, especially not to anyone else. We can't trust other people with this information. They might run you two out of town." Edilio chuckled.

"Yeah, they might think that the girlyness is spreading." Sam ground his teeth.

"Fine. I don't need anyone else to know. You four are enough."

With that the five not-so intelligent and extremely unorthodox teenagers made their way back to Perdido Beach, Edilio trying to convince Astrid to give up on Sam, for it was more than likely that he was gay, Quinn singing along to the songs in his head, Petey playing his video game, and Sam still wishing for a beef taco.

**A/N: There. Done! *lights off sparklers* Okay, guys, just wanted to let you know that I'm going on vacation in Europe next week for two weeks, and I won't have access to the internet. **** I know, I know, how will you all survive? **

**Anyway, here's your preview of the next chapter! **

**Preview: In the next update of Um, Poof? you will meet the badies, Caine, Drake and Diana! But these are not our beloved badies of Gone, for: Caine is obsessed with his hair, Diana is a dog trainer, and Drake is a pushover! Dahra gets pissed off at Cookie, Bette gets her cell phone taken away, and Astrid finally gets to make out with Sam! Or does she? Will Astrid finally get her guy? Will Caine take over Perdido Beach? Will these kids ever grow any brain cells? Find out in the next update! Coming soon to a computer near you. **


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